


O' Christmas Tree

by ProsperDemeter



Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [14]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: “If you call down lightning and anger the already angry trees,” Tony cautioned angrily from up in the sky. “I will personally burn all of your poptarts.”Thor gasped dramatically, Hulk roared in agreement, and Natasha was her usual, silent and stealthy self.“O’ Christmas tree, o’ Christmas tree,” Clint sang softly to himself as the trees stalked forward, stomping and crunching long vacant cars. The good news was that, so far, the giant evergreen trees weren’t moving fast but, instead, taking their time lumbering through the city.“Barton,” Phil laughed softly from beside him on the perch Clint had found for them earlier. Phil wasn’t exactly a sniper, but he was running point on the mission, binoculars held up to his dark eyes and lips quirking into a small smile. At least he would agree with Clint that the entire situation was rather ridiculous. Sentient trees. What were they, caught in a Batman comic or something? “You sang that completely wrong.”
Relationships: Clint Barton & Avengers Team, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: 20 Days of Holiday Fics [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	O' Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> 14! 😊
> 
> Just a warning, I just realized that I barely explain anything that happened.

“Don’t you dare sneeze.” 

Well now he _had_ to sneeze. The tip of his nose twitched, red from a mixture of the snow settling onto his perch and allergies that he hadn’t even known he _had_ until then. Clint flexed his fingers around the frame of his bow, brushed his nose off on his sleeve, and squinted through the rapidly falling white flakes. He was trying, desperately, uselessly, to see through to the rest of his team somewhere planted on the ground and fighting their current enemy. 

He supposed he was lucky, so far his cover hadn’t been blown or discovered. Not like Tony’s was the moment the trees started rapidly growing and then _moving_ through the city - roots, branches and all. Clint would have said it was thanks to his training that he hadn’t been given away but, honestly, he hadn’t exactly been paying the events down below too much attention until just then. He was busy tracking the heat signatures at the animal shelter down below until every last one of them was out of the immediate vicinity - even including the _fish_ and Clint hated fish. “I’m not going to sneeze.” He muttered petulantly into his elbow. 

“ _Not_ you, Barton.” Steve assured a little bit rougher around the edges than he needed to be. But, Clint would cut the guy some slack - he _was_ currently trying to climb his way up a moving tree. For what reason Clint wasn’t entirely sure but he was sure he had one. “ _Thor_ ,” Captain America repeated more sternly or, perhaps, he was exerting himself too much at that moment. “ _Do not sneeze_.” 

It was a fair order. When Thor sneezed he tended to… _sneeze_ . He had a habit of calling down lightning at that exact moment too which would only either treat them wonderfully or make the sentient trees angry and, well, Clint could understand _why_ they didn’t want to make the quickly moving trees angrier than they had already apparently made them. 

Thor breathed in deep, and then again, and again and, in time, with the coordination of a team that had been working together for the better part of a year, they all yelled his name over the communicators planted in their ears. “I am _trying_ , Captain!” Thor bellowed. “It is not easy! I do not know why these fiendish trees tickle my nose!” 

“If you call down lightning and anger the already angry trees,” Tony cautioned angrily from up in the sky. “I will personally burn all of your poptarts.” 

Thor gasped dramatically, Hulk roared in agreement, and Natasha was her usual, silent and stealthy self. 

“O’ Christmas tree, o’ Christmas tree,” Clint sang softly to himself as the trees stalked forward, stomping and crunching long vacant cars. The good news was that, so far, the giant evergreen trees weren’t moving fast but, instead, taking their time lumbering through the city. 

“Barton,” Phil laughed softly from beside him on the perch Clint had found for them earlier. Phil wasn’t exactly a sniper, but he _was_ running point on the mission, binoculars held up to his dark eyes and lips quirking into a small smile. At least _he_ would agree with Clint that the entire situation was rather ridiculous. Sentient trees. What were they, caught in a Batman comic or something? “You sang that completely wrong.” 

Clint shrugged with a sideways smile. “Sing it for me then, sir. Show me how it goes.” 

Phil did not. “Stark, you have another one growing right beneath you.” 

The bright red Iron Man suit swerved out of the way just in time to avoid the top branches slamming him into the New York stock exchange. “Do we have boots on the ground or, you know, _anything_?” 

“We have Captain America trying to spider-monkey his way up the biggest tree.” Clint observed. “No idea why but he’s doing an admirable job.” 

He didn’t have to look at Phil to see his eyes roll in response. “Admirable?” Natasha spoke, nowhere that any of them could pinpoint. “Is that your word of the day?” 

“Education, the gift that keeps on giving.” Tony snarked. 

“The word of the day is incogitant,” Clint corrected. It was technically Phil’s calendar that displayed it, a gift from Pepper Potts and an inside joke between the two of them that no one even pretended to understand. But, whatever, right? It got Phil to smile and taught Clint some new things. “Means inconsiderate or thoughtless.” 

“Much like Hulk’s aim.” Phil muttered. Clink choked on his laugh until it was squashed down making, instead, a strangled sort of snort escape. Phil shot him an amused look and, shocking absolutely none of them, Natasha was the only other person to catch it. Clint only knew she had heard it for the same reason he was always more aware of Natasha Romanov, years and years of working together mixed with a healthy dose of paranoia. The noise she made was soft but it was most definitely her noise of amusement in the field. “Captain Rogers, if I may…” 

“Yeah man, _why_ are you making that tree your ladder?” Clint asked with less ease and professional sensitivity than anyone else would have. 

“Maybe there’s a… switch or something.” Steve explained pathetically. 

Clint narrowed his eyes and watched the super soldier falter on his way up the wood. “You don’t have any idea why you’re climbing it.” Tony made an affronted noise from where he was up in the air at Steve’s non-answer. Phil tossed his face into his hand to rub at his forehead at the ineptitude of the superhero team he was left to supervise, and Thor… _sneezed_. 

The ground shook with the force of it, Clint swore the snow froze where it was in the air for a moment before falling faster than it was before and they all stayed still to observe the trees. One, the one that Steve was attached to, had stopped with a root-foot stuck in the air, ready to take another giant, slow, step. Phil’s hand was tight on the back of Clint’s jacket, ready to yank him backwards or… do _something_ , Steve pulled himself in closer to the tree’s bark as though it would protect him from whatever was coming, Tony hovered in the air uselessly, Hulk froze with a car suspended over his head like an umbrella (Clint really hoped that family had thought to get Avengers coverage on their vehicle or that was going to be an _expensive_ bill) and Nat was, per usual, completely out of sight doing whatever it was that Nat did most of their missions. “Bless you?” Clint said slowly, cautiously, an arrow knocked and bow held tense at his thigh. 

It was safe to say that he shouldn’t have said anything. 

It went to hell. 

Thor had done what they had all feared he would do - anger the trees. 

A giant, wooden and moss covered branch swung out to knock Iron Man clear out of the sky and into the cold, icy waters of the Hudson. The tree Steve had been trying to climb for reasons unknown even to himself began to shake it’s leaves and needles violently. Root feet began to stomp in big, loud bangs after the Hulk, cracking the pavement into tiny airborne fragments. Phil yanked Clint down on top of the gravel rooftop hard and quick, just in time to narrowly duck below and angry swipe of a branch. And Thor was wrapped in an angry, wooden fist that even his lightning and godly strength couldn’t break through. “Well,” Phil said from atop Clint’s sprawled out body. “This is unfortunate.” 

“Okay,” Clint grunted and Phil rolled off his back. “Who pissed off Yggdrasill?” 

“How the _hell_ ,” Iron Man splashed, loudly, out of the Hudson, a very annoyed Tony Stark controlling it from inside the armor still. “Did you manage to pronounce that correctly?” 

“GED, bitch.” 

“You passed?” Natasha cheered a little, the most emotion she had ever allowed herself while deep in a mission. She was always more chatty when the mission involved fighting things that weren’t meant to be fought. “Congratulations!”

“I don’t know what that is,” Steve was still holding on tightly to the rapidly moving tree, somehow _not_ being swung like a rag doll. “But if Nat says congratulations are in order then congratulations.” 

“Awe,” Clint smiled despite himself, ignored the way his cheeks colored at the compliments and sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Thanks, Cap.” 

“GED?” Stark asked hotly. “You never finished high school?” 

“I have a diploma.” Clint argued and caught a flash of _something_ down in Central Park. He narrowed his gaze, pointed it out through the snow for Phil and motioned that he was about to go check it out. Phil didn’t bother telling him yes or no, if Clint deemed it something that needed investigating he was going to investigate it regardless of what Phil thought. He collapsed his bow and clipped it to his back. “From Mary Richardson Elementary.” 

Stark whistled. “Impressive. Congratulations.” 

Hulk roared his agreement from where he was avoiding the tap dance practice to the tree above him. Or, at least, Clint took the roar as an agreement. “Nat, I got something suspicious in Central Park.” 

“On my way.” 

“If it’s an off switch,” Steve said breathlessly. “I would appreciate you hitting it quickly.” 

“But I’m trying to help you live your dream of being a monkey, Cap.” Clint moved quickly down the fire escape, grabbed a hold of the railing of an apartment porch and swung himself off it and onto the roof of a car. His boots, due to training and design alone, barely made any noise when they touched down on the metal. But his squeak of indignation as he _slipped_ and fell off the car and onto the pavement on his ass made up for the lack of noise earlier. Right. Snow. It was snowing and snow was slippery. Hulk _laughed_ at him, the unhelpful green asshole. 

Clint gave himself only a moment to wallow in how his ass was going to have a spectacular bruise in the morning and then pushed himself to his feet and kept going. Like the damn professional he was. Contrary to what Clint had previously believed, it wasn’t weaving between the angry tree roots that was the biggest problem. No, Clint found dodging those downright _easy_ . After all, Clint had a lifetime of practice dodging people, projectiles, aliens and _things_ that generally wanted him dead. 

No, it was the _snow_ that was proving to be the factor slowing him down. It was heavy and clung _everywhere_. He slipped with every third step and bemoaned his bad decision making skills - he should have stayed up high where he could have made the leap from rooftop to rooftop. “You would have fallen off the roof.” Phil deadpanned when Clint complained after slipping for the thirty third time in a matter of minutes. “And then we would have been down a sniper.”

“Replace me with Barnes, it'll be fine.” Steve made an affronted noise at the suggestion which, Clint guessed, was fair. His lifelong friend, buddy, possibly more, was rightfully retired ever since the whole… Hydra thing went down. 

“I would rather you stay alive, Clint.” Phil said it like an order and Clint took it for the admission of care that it was. It used to be rare for Phil to admit to such a thing, for _either_ of them to admit to such a thing, especially out in the open where anyone on the team could hear them. But everyone knew about the two of them already, they had been given the bright red stamp of approval by Fury on each of their personnel files years ago, and Clint could count on one hand the number of people that even _cared_ that they were more than handler and asset. It was nice. To not have to hide that part of himself anymore. 

Clint skidded again, narrowed avoided a swipe by a low, angry branch, and caught the silver glint again - closer but still too far away for him to get a good shot with the blanket of white blocking his view. He caught himself on the palm of his hand, the pavement scraping against the skill of the heel in a long, angry pull. He swore, because even with his high pain tolerance it hurt, but figured that if the worst injury he received on this mission was a _scrape_ then he would be happy with the way it turned out. 

“I have news,” Tony said from up high, his repulsors firing left and right. He had given up then, apparently, on avoiding tree-angering tactics. Unfortunately, whatever he was doing wasn’t actually _helping_ any. 

“You’re expecting?” Steve asked excitedly. 

“And he decided to announce it _now_ of all times, Cap?” Clint scoffed. 

“You announced your GED.” Natasha pointed out. 

“Okay,” Clint conceded. “Point. You were telling us about your upcoming pregnancy, Stark?” 

“I’m about to let you all get killed by foliage.” 

Thor sneezed again, loudly, and the ground beneath Clint’s feet shook again. He lost balance and fell back, hard, against the frame of a Mercedes. They all stayed frozen in place again, a root foot inches away from Clint’s, much smaller and more easily _squishable_ body. Up close he could see the soil that was dripping off the things, the quickly growing vines running their way up the tree’s bark and the worms dropping from the roots onto the mounds of snow. _God_ , that was too close for anything slimy to be close to him. 

Thor heaved a deep, deep breath, threw his head back and the clouds above them rumbled. “Don’t!” 

“No more sneeze!” Hulk redirected the car he was about to throw at the offending tree in front of him, instead, to Thor up in the sky. 

It caught him in the chest, just as the God of Thunder let out his biggest sneeze yet and toppled three of the angrily stomping trees. Thor banged backwards, miles and miles away and, Clint was sure, angry with all of his considerable might at the Hulk. “Bless you!” Steve yelled out useless and helplessly a moment after. It must have been a code word or _something_ , because the root, worm covered foot that had been in front of Clint only moments before started to rapidly fall towards his face. With wide eyes he ducked and rolled out of the way, scrambled to his feet and tried to sprint his way forward. 

“The snow’s some sort of plant food!” Tony yelled from where he was above them all, yelling insults that weren’t appropriate for a professional workplace towards the trees that had squared in on him. This time around, Clint wasn’t awarded with the courtesy of the trees not noticing him and the closer he got to Central Park the angrier they seemed to get. He heard Natasha yelp in his ear piece just as a vine curled tight around his ankle and yanked him down hard enough for him to bang his chin on the pavement. 

“Barton? Report.” Phil was anything but calm, even if his voice sounded it in Clint’s ear. 

“Ow.” Clint moaned, rolling himself onto his back and blinking the black spots away from his face. 

Steve winced. “Do you need extraction?” 

“From _who_ ?” Clint kicked, uselessly, at the vine as it pulled him forward and then up, up, _up_ until he was suspended over the ground on eye level from the building he had previously been on top of. There was no _easy_ way to get down, even if the tree _wasn’t_ sentient and marching forward, rapidly away from his target. He looked sideways, thanked whatever being had made him physically fit for being able to crunch upwards even with a head injury, and caught sight of Natasha, scaling the tree that had grabbed her like the scary ninja assassin she had always been. He allowed himself a moment to be jealous before taking stock of his surroundings. 

The situation was rapidly getting to a point where it couldn’t be contained. Thor had arrived back in the fight but was squeezing his nose tightly with one hand which made his fighting less effective. Steve had given up all pretence of actually doing anything but holding onto the tree for dear life, Phil was _somewhere_ on _whatever_ rooftop had accepted him watching the whole thing play out, Hulk was throwing whatever he could to try to slow the trees down, and Tony was shooting repulsor beams that did no damage at all. They were screwed. “Clint!” Natasha pulled his attention back to her. “I’m going to tell you where to shoot, okay?” 

“Make it quick, Nat, this thing is moving quick.” Clint allowed himself to hang limp, bemoaned the loss of all of his arrows (they had fallen from his quiver when the tree had held him upside down and currently littered the ground below) and, instead, unstrapped a gun from his thigh holster. 

“EMP,” She said quickly and Clint swore before throwing the gun he had just un-holstered to join his arrows. He grabbed the _EMP_ gun - a nifty SHIELD experiment that had yet to be tested in the field - a moment after, flipped the switch to turn it on and heard the telltale noise of it charging. “Eleven o’clock, your left, straight through the trees.” 

“Tell me when.” It would be a tricky shot, Clint knew exactly where she was describing - the silver thing he had seen in the middle of the park before being snatched up by the ankle. Not only was the distance between him and whatever it was increasing, he was also hanging upside down. He had made tricky shots before, tricky shots were his _thing_ , but tricky shots, upside down, with a head injury, and using an experimental weapon weren’t exactly Clint’s favorite odds. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Steve asked desperately. 

“Now.” She didn’t yell it - Nat didn’t have to, Clint did what he always did when he was about to take a shot. He narrowed in, tuned out, and _focused_. His finger squeezed the trigger the moment she opened her mouth to speak and her timing with his skill proved to be impeccable. The trees, and the snow, stuttered and then stopped. 

The snow, plant food, whatever it was, dropped suddenly from the sky in one giant swoop, landing like a soft and fluffy cloud on the destruction that had been terrorizing the city for… a few hours at that point. “Nice shot, Hawkeye.” Phil praised and Clint, dazed and starting to feel slightly sick, shot him a thumbs up wherever he was. 

The vine holding his ankle groaned and Clint did with it. 

Because _of course_. 

It snapped and he curled himself into a ball, launching himself with the forward momentum towards one branch, and then another one, and then one lower to the ground. He landed with a wince, stumbled, and then caught himself on the trunk of the tree. The palms of his hands were cut up, splinters poking through the skin like angry nagging reminders of just a moment before. Thick, Christmas pine filled his senses so much so that Clint could taste it on the tip of his tongue and he waited, just a moment, to stop his head from spinning to step forward. “Rockin’ around, the Christmas tree,” a speaker at one of the local store fronts played mockingly in the silence of after the fight. “Have a happy holiday.” 

Clint was _not_ having a happy holiday. He wanted nothing more than to be back on his couch, curled under a blanket, with Phil and his dog watching stupid reality show re-runs. Or holiday bake offs. They _loved_ those things. Natasha landed softly beside him, looped a supportive arm around his waist and ducked under his arm to get him moving. The great thing about Natasha, one of the _many_ great things about Natasha, was that she never made it look as though she was helping someone carry their own weight unless they were bad off. She had a way to make it look as though she simply liked having her arm around Clint’s waist and his around her shoulders until she handed him off to Phil minutes later. Their boots crunched over the plant snow, and the bench Phil all but pushed Clint onto was cold and wet but his hands were warm where they prodded at his forehead. “You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear,” the song continued. “Voices singing let’s be jolly! Deck! The halls with boughs of holly!” 

“Brenda Lee can fuck right off.” Clint muttered and Phil, at recognition of the joke, smiled as warmly as he allowed in the field, his handkerchief ( _where_ had he been keeping that) pressing onto the sluggish flow of blood on Clint’s chin, nose, and then forehead. “Can we go home?” 

“Admirable shot, Clint.” Steve complimented from the tree he was attempting to shimmy down in front of them. 

“Just let me _help you_ ,” Tony said from where he hoved directly behind him, arms outstretched as though to catch a child that had just learned to walk. 

“No,” Steve argued petulantly. “I got myself up there, I can get myself down.” 

Thor heaved another deep, deep breath and Hulk tackled him to the ground. 

His sneeze ripped through the quiet and sent several trees toppling backwards and car alarms blaring. A branch crashed through the storefront window closest to them and Brenda Lee cut off abruptly. “Oh thank god,” Clint said in relief. 

Phil’s lips twitched in a smile. “Medbay, then home.” 

“Awe, Phil.” 

“You can barely focus on my hand.” 

“Bless me.” Thor muttered pathetically, Hulk sitting triumphantly on his chest and Natasha handing him a shirt from a souvenir shop to use as a tissue. 

"Whatever was in the park was making the plant food." Natasha supplied just as Steve hopped off the trunk and hit the ground with an oof. 

"We'll go investigate." Steve supplied, tossing a thumb over his shoulder at Tony. 

"We will?" Tony's mask pulled back to show his blinking and bruised face. Steve gave him a look. "We will." 

"Report on my desk tomorrow." Phil ordered. 

"Sir, yes sir." Tony saluted cockily before sauntering off. 

Clint blinked at his partner. "Even me?" 

"No," Phil poked his bruise. "You get to dictate it to me in Medbay." 

Clint groaned, and then sneezed into his elbow pathetically. "Bless you, Hawkeye." Thor said helpfully. 


End file.
